


Sanvers Pride Month Prompt Ficlets

by SapphicScholar



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-14 05:47:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19267033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphicScholar/pseuds/SapphicScholar
Summary: Imported from Tumblr: a series of shorter Sanvers fics (prompts and ratings given for each individual chapter)





	1. Farmers Market AU (G)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Credit for the idea (AU where Alex meets Maggie at the farmers market where Maggie runs a stand with her home-grown vegetables) goes to @dimplescanary!

“If you’d let me drive, you wouldn’t have to spend the first 10 minutes of every stop complaining about how stiff you are,” Kara said as she made a grab for the keys.

Alex jerked them back just in time. “Not a chance. I’d like to keep the contents of my stomach inside my stomach, thank you very much.”

With a roll of her eyes, Kara turned in the direction the signs for the farmer’s market were pointing. “Now that I understand how fragile the human sense of equilibrium is, I’m, like, a thousand times better.” Alex shuddered at the memories from the first time she’d tried to teach Kara to drive a few months before official records declared her 16 because, as Kara had rationalized it, “I was stuck in outer space for decades, Alex. I’m basically middle-aged.”

“Maybe once you’ve been here for a full decade I’ll let you try again.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Still, Kara wouldn’t complain. Last summer Alex had come home from Stanford for two full weeks and, much to Eliza’s chagrin, taught her how to ride a motorcycle, and she knew that Alex was voluntarily missing a lot of research time for their summer road trip to celebrate Kara’s graduation.

As they followed the signs through yet another small Midwestern town–and honestly, Kara was starting to see the appeal Kal-El had felt with how quiet they could be, even with her super senses–they chatted about nothing and everything. Kara talked again about how excited she was for her journalism elective amidst all the required gen-eds, and Alex gushed about how smart Professor Frankel was and how innovative her research methods were and how she drove the coolest motorcycle, and could you even believe that professors drove motorcycles?

As they got closer to the market, Kara perked up. “Ooh! It smells like they’ve got baked goods.”

Alex snickered, shoving lightly at Kara’s shoulder. “Put your nose down. You look like an overeager puppy.”

“If we get there and don’t find the good donuts because you wouldn’t let me sniff them out, it’s on your conscience.”

Alex just rolled her eyes and shook her head.

A few minutes later, they rounded the corner and found a large park covered in tents and tables and even a miniature stage with live music. Squeals rang out from the playground area where children ran around, and small groups of people wandered between booths, filling their bags with fresh meat and produce from the local farms. Since they weren’t in any rush, Kara and Alex simply started at the stand closest to them and began working their way around the perimeter, happily accepting as many samples as were offered–at least until they got to the lady handing out beets because no thank you, please.

One of the booths they reached seemed to be deserted, though there was a cute, handwritten sign propped up that read, “Peas stay honest - I’ll be back in 5!” in curling blue chalk. Alex was pleased to see a $10 bill tucked beneath the corner of the sign; apparently people respected whoever it was running the Lettuce Make Your Day stand. Kara drifted over to the next booth, while Alex lingered at the empty stand, looking for the prices of the small cartons of strawberries.

“Look good, don’t they?” came a voice from behind her.

“Yeah,” Alex began, spinning around on her heel. But then she forgot everything she was going to say about too many days on the road and too few fruits and vegetables and wow wouldn’t her mom pay money to hear her saying that. Because standing behind her was the cutest girl she’d ever seen, with a broad smile that made her dimples pop and dark hair twisted into two long braids and a flannel shirt that Alex wished meant she was gay but probably just meant she was a farmer or a midwesterner. “Uhm.”

“Alex!” Kara’s voice burst through the bubble that seemed to have sprung up between Alex and the mystery girl and the rest of the farmer’s market. “Look!” She gestured at the large bins of cauliflower. “It’s ghost broccoli.” As she cackled and made eerie ghost noises, Alex felt her cheeks blush scarlet.

“Kara,” she hissed, eyebrows raising as she tilted her head meaningfully in the cute girl’s direction. “Stop it.”

“Er, right.” After a moment, she smiled over at them and stepped up beside Alex. “I’m Kara. I see you’ve already met my sister Alex.”

“I didn’t actually get her name yet, but it’s nice to meet you both. I’m Maggie.”

Alex smiled and nodded, and Kara rolled her eyes. “We’re currently on a road trip across the country. It was hard getting this one away from all her super smart research, but she’s sweet enough to make time for me, aren’t you Alex?” Kara poked Alex’s ribs.

“Right, um, yeah, anything for my sister.” Kara stepped on Alex’s toes next. “What are you doing here?”

Maggie pointed at the empty booth behind them. “Working.”

“Oh! I didn’t realize, sorry, I can let you get back to work.”

Maggie shrugged, an easy smile pulling up the corners of her mouth. “If you’re thinking about buying anything, I can call it work.”

“I was actually looking at those strawberries. They look”–Alex paused as Maggie plucked one from a half-empty carton and held it out to her–“beautiful. I mean, tasty! I mean, amazing. Good. Fine. They look like strawberries.” She could hear Kara muttering under her breath about it being amazing that Alex managed to find dates, but she felt rooted to the spot.

“Well, I’m only a summer worker, but I think they’re pretty beautiful.” Maggie leaned forward a little and sent a wink in Alex’s direction. “Or maybe that’s just the person looking at them.”

Alex felt some of her nerves ebb away at that. If Maggie could be cheesy and not straight and call her beautiful, then she could certainly manage some basic conversation. Still, having a few minutes to slow her heart rate while she sampled the strawberries helped. “Holy shit, these are really good.”

“Better than fine?”

“So much better.”

Maggie leaned one of her hips against her side of the table as she gestured at the little “About the Farm” sign that hung behind her. “Sue Anne does a really great job. Doesn’t grow as much as some of the competitors”–Maggie’s hand swept around the room–“but she does an amazing job with the things she chooses.”

“How’d you end up working there?” Alex asked, barely noticing as Kara wandered away.

“I was looking for a summer job after freshman year, something that might come with housing so I could stay for the summer. My Intro to Bio professor is Sue Anne’s wife, so she put us in contact, and I’ve been working here every summer since.”

“That’s really cool. I’ve always been cooped up in a lab all summer.”

“This is my last summer actually. I graduated this spring, and I’ll start up at the Police Academy in Gotham in a month.” A handful of customers came up then, and Alex stepped away, letting Maggie handle them and ignoring Kara, who stood a few booths over making exaggerated kissing motions and giggling.

For the next hour and a half, while Kara ate her way around the market, Alex chatted with Maggie on and off between customers. After Kara had texted three times in a row, though, she knew she finally had to wrap it up.

“I should probably head out, let you work and all that, but I want to buy some of those strawberries before I leave.”

“Here, they’re on the house.” Maggie pushed over one of the cartons.

“No, I can’t do that–plus, I kept you busy for so long.”

“Trust me, you made my afternoon a hundred times better.”

Alex swallowed heavily as she dragged her toes along the grass. “Um, maybe as a thank you, would you want to come to dinner? We’re gonna spend the night here and probably try to find a decent local restaurant, and it’d be nice–or, I mean, I’d really like to see you again before I leave.”

“You asking me out?” The question was blunt, but the smile was genuine.

With a shrug, Alex tried not to look too hopeful. “You saying yes?”

“Yeah, I think I am.”

Alex beamed, and in an instant, Kara was at her side. “So I hear I’m third-wheeling it tonight?”

Before Alex could kick Kara in the shins, Maggie was laughing loudly. “Only if you don’t mind.”

“Hey, I’m just impressed that you’re still giving her a chance after all the stammering and blushing.”

“Oh I don’t know…I think it was pretty cute.”


	2. Closet (T)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sanvers is together in this fic, but it's more of an canon divergent Alex character study

“How’s it feel being out of the closet?” a rather drunk Winn asked Alex, his words slurring together slightly. Apparently he was a four-drink-limit kind of guy.

She took a deep breath in through her nose, letting it slowly filter out through her mouth. It was Winn. Winn who had his own share of coming out stories. Winn who’d lost one of his foster homes over a coming out. Winn who’d finally met the new “partner” a couple of days ago and nearly spat his beer all over the table at the sight of Maggie, later wrapping Alex up in his arms and welcoming her to the “family” as if she hadn’t been there all along. But, as far as he knew, this was all new. First time meeting a girlfriend. First time hearing Alex confirm the whole “ladies lovin’ ladies” deal. Why wouldn’t it be the first time it had ever happened? The first time Alex herself had realized it could happen?

“Fine,” Alex answered after a too long pause. “I’m gonna grab another drink. You want something? Water? Wings?”

Winn paused, brow furrowed. “Water.”

“Good choice, Schott.”

Making her way over to the bar, Alex’s mind wandered back to middle school, to watching Willow and Tara kiss on her television screen and feeling that tug in her chest, that sense that she was watching something that made sense to her.

Then it was high school—making out with a guy or two to see what the fuss was about before deciding that long nights spent with Vicki that felt an awful lot like the dates she saw on TV were definitely better.

College brought campus pride groups and LGBTQ centers, but Kara had always been the joiner, not her. Instead, Alex had watched from afar, wondering how the hell people had time for clubs, while she blew through her classes and labs fast enough to graduate in five semesters, fast enough to make her mom proud, fast enough to get herself one step closer to the life she kept telling herself she wanted to live, the kind of life that would honor her father’s memory.

Grad school had been the first moment she gave herself freedom, and everyone saw how well that had worked for her—long nights lost to tequila and gorgeous women with soft hair and soft curves and soft lips who she claimed with a hard intensity that was meant to say: one night only, nothing more. By the time the dean sent her a letter warning that she’d been placed on academic probation, Alex swore off those kind of nights. She’d given up on the idea of time-consuming romance back in college, but it was grad school that taught her the danger of even giving herself those fleeting moments of fun; they all took her away from where she was supposed to be, what she was supposed to be doing.

Then Hank Henshaw was showing up beside her in a jail cell because she’d gone and done it again, wanted too much, wanted too hard, wanted one more night to lose herself in loud beats and strong drinks and beautiful women just one last time before throwing herself back into her studies. And Hank was stern in a way that rankled, but he also gave her purpose, kept telling her he believed in her too much to let her throw her life away. From that point on, life was split between research and intensive training. She watched her body change in the mirror week after week. Said goodbye to the skinny girl who’d spent a few too many mornings on her bathroom floor, counting the pale blue tiles that decorated the walls. Met instead a new version of herself—one with sharp angles and short hair and visible muscles. Every so often, she’d catch a glimpse of her reflection and think back to Meg, the president of Pride her freshman year. Meg, who had seemed too fucking cool for anyone with the short, tousled hair and the arm muscles that rivaled the gym jocks’ and the slightly baggy jeans that sometimes revealed a glimpse of underwear she most definitely had not purchased from Victoria’s Secret during their 7 for $25 deal days like Alex had. On those days, Alex would catch herself spending a little more time at the weights station at the DEO gym, catch herself flexing a little after her shower as she dried off in front of the mirror, catch a hint of a cocky smirk pulling up the corner of her mouth and wonder what it might be like to let herself go back to those bars these days.

“What can I get for you?” The same bartender who had served her earlier called over the din of the crowd.

“Uh, another whiskey and a glass of water.”

“Coming right up.”

A minute or two later, two glasses landed in front of her, and Alex handed over cash, shaking her head as he reached to get her change. “Keep it.” A small part of her kept hoping that leaving generous tips these days would make up for those grad school nights before she’d caught on to bar etiquette (or had, at the very least, been too far gone to honor it).

As Alex jostled her way back from the bar, a sharp elbow caught her side, and she let out a grunt—more of annoyance at the splash of water that had soaked through a patch of her jeans than of genuine pain.

A woman with short-cropped hair and a fitted black t-shirt with BUTCH emblazoned across the front in bold block lettering paused at the sound. “Shit, I’m sorry.” When she spun back around to assess the damage, she paused, giving Alex a quick once over before nodding her head in acknowledgement.

In that moment, all the frustration with Winn and James and her mom and everyone who kept treating her like this was all some new thing she’d discovered, as if she’d been surprised by her own desires, slipped away. In that moment, she was seen. No recently nudged open closet doors lurking behind her. Just her. Alex. A visibly queer woman in a bar who would be joined by her girlfriend as soon as she finished at work.

Alex grinned, nodding back at her before they drifted back to their respective corners of the bar.


	3. Amusement Park (G)

“Any thoughts on where they might be?” Maggie whispered to Alex as they skirted around the carousel.

“No sightings yet. Tip was that they’d be getting here late, though, so we’ve got some time to get the lay of the land.”

Maggie nodded, looking around her at the sprawling fairgrounds of National City’s annual Summer Festival. Rides had begun showing up in town about a week ago, and over the past few days they’d started whirring and running, lighting up the night sky with bright, flashing lights and filling the air with lilting music. The smell of slightly burnt sugar wafted on the breeze, and Maggie found herself turning towards the source, spotting the row of stands selling cotton candy and caramel apples and funnel cakes big enough to give anyone over the age of 15 a heart attack.

“Hungry?”

“Uh, a little, but I don’t want to get distracted.”

Tapping her earpiece, Alex grinned at Maggie. “We’ve got plenty of eyes and ears out there for us. Let’s enjoy a bit of fun while we can.”

“Nice change of pace from the rest of this month.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Alex patted Maggie’s shoulder. “Well then my treat, yeah? What can I get for you?”

“You don’t have to, Danvers. You didn’t break up with me. Or shoot me.”

“No. I’d like to think I’m not that much of an idiot. Or a bad guy,” she added with a chuckle.

Maggie’s cheeks warmed, and she ducked her head, trying to refocus her attention on the fairgrounds. “What do you say to splitting a funnel cake?”

“As long as you don’t go and eat 90% of it and call it an even split like my sister does, I’d say that sounds great.”

With a laugh that made Alex nearly giddy, Maggie held three fingers aloft. “Scout’s honor. We’ll split it down the middle.”

A few minutes later found Alex and Maggie settled at a picnic table, pulling off pieces of funnel cake and trying not to end up with a dusting of powdered sugar all over their dark jeans. The effort was…somewhat successful. Two large lemonades followed because, as Alex insisted, one really can’t have a snack without a drink, and besides, that place was known for them.

From there, Alex convinced Maggie that it wouldn’t hurt to play a few games, insisting that she’d gotten the DEO to pay for tickets so they wouldn’t stand out by doing absolutely nothing at the fair. Alex beat Maggie by a very slim margin at the shooting game (“Whatever, Danvers, that gun didn’t shoot straight”), but lost spectacularly to her at the basketball game (“Did I not mention I played point guard for a bit?”). They both managed to dunk the guy in the water tank with a well-aimed throw of a softball, and Alex took a video of Maggie swinging the sledgehammer at the strength tester hard enough to ring the bell.

As the sky grew darker, Alex gestured over at the big ferris wheel. “What do you say to a bit of aerial surveillance?”

“Couldn’t hurt, though I gotta say, I’m sorta hoping that tip ends up being a bust.”

With a noncommittal little hum, Alex dragged Maggie towards the line, pulling out enough tickets to cover both of them.

“Wow, the DEO really went all out for this, huh?”

“Uh, yeah. Gotta make your undercover story believable, right?”

After two cycles of the ride, it was finally their turn, and with a little jolt of motion, their car lifted into the air. During their first jerky ride around as the ride operator loaded up all the cars, Maggie nudged Alex’s foot with her own. “I, uh, I know I turned you down for pinball and drinks the other week, but this has been really fun, even if it’s just for work.”

“You deserve to have a night of fun, Maggie.”

Maggie’s gaze fell to her lap as her fingers twisted together. “I guess, I don’t know, it’s always been easier to throw myself into work, just wait it out.”

“I get that. Trust me,” Alex said with a wry laugh, thinking back on all the times she buried her disappointment in overtime and whiskey.

“I figured you would. But this might have been a much healthier way of coping than late nights at the precinct and a few too many drinks.”

“I’m glad an angry Infernian could help.”

“I don’t know. I think it might have been you more than a possible looming threat that’s making me happy.”

“Oh.” Alex’s cheeks flushed pink. “I, uh, I think you make me happy too.” She took a deep, fortifying breath as she steeled her nerves. “And I, well, I’d like to keep being the kind of person that can make your days better. If that’s something you’d like.”

“I don’t want to misread things a second time, but it sort of sounds like you’re asking me out, Danvers.”

Alex’s mouth twisted to one side, her eyes wide and a little hopeful. “And if I am?”

Maggie smiled wide enough for her dimples to pop as she leaned forward. “I think I’m saying yes.”

And then Alex was leaning forward to meet her for a sweet kiss as they crested over the top of the ferris wheel, all of National City spread out before them.

Eventually Maggie forced them to pull back and pay attention to their surroundings again, at least until J’onn phoned in to tell Alex that they’d caught the rogue Infernian several blocks away and had pulled him in for questioning.

It wasn’t until the week of their one-year anniversary, when Kara mentioned how nervous Alex had been while planning their first date for the Summer Festival, that Maggie found out that there had never been a threat. Alex decided that it was worth all the teasing and embarrassment when Maggie called her adorable and promised to take her again that year and pay for the tickets that time around.


	4. Mutual Support - Physical Therapy AU (M)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note the rating!

“5 more reps, you can do it!”

Alex wanted to strangle the cheer out of Holly’s voice. Fucking physical therapists and their fucking pep squad attitude. She didn’t want to smile through her 20 painful partial squats—not when she used to be able to do 20 regular squats without so much as breaking a sweat.

In an attempt to distract herself from the agony that was her left knee these days, Alex catalogued everyone else in the room; if she wasn’t as fast as she used to be, she could at least prove her worth to the DEO by being better at assessing situations than anyone else. There was one of the regulars—Grace something—who’d also had knee surgery, though hers was a replacement. She was still with Marcia, mainly because she was the only one who would work with her after she’s snapped and told her first physical therapist to fuck off when he suggested that she think about the recovery process as a great big journey and tried to give her a “fun” nickname to go along with their “adventure” together. Alex sort of loved her. Sometimes a second woman came to pick her up; she was a lot nicer, but she also smelled vaguely of weed most of the time, so Alex figured it probably didn’t come naturally. Then there were the two older men who worked with Marianna for back issues on alternating mornings. They’d also learned not to talk to Grace after being on the receiving end of the middle finger for their early morning attempts at small talk and less-than-funny jokes. A teenager who apparently was some kind of soccer prodigy worked in the corner every single day to recover after an ACL tear. His parents and coach frequently hovered nearby asking if he could be doing more yet. And, as of this week, Kathleen had a new patient: some woman who looked to be about Alex’s age with wavy brown hair and an adorable smile that had made Alex grin back once until Holly noticed and assumed Alex was finally responding to her enthusiasm. Ever since then Alex had been careful to keep all of her reactions to herself. 

Only in that moment, the woman was in a tank top, which was a first. And she was doing all hand and forearm exercises. Which naturally drew Alex’s attention to her arms. Which were rather well-defined. Which gave Alex a whole lot of inappropriate thoughts about more fun ways they could both get sweaty.

“One more, Danvers!” Holly cheered. 

Alex glared the whole time. 

“Alright, now why don’t you go try ten minutes at Preset 1 on the treadmill.” 

Alex would have complained, but the treadmill was right across from the new woman, so she figured there were worse things, even if she had to go slower on the treadmill than on the bike. 

After a minute or two of what was essentially speed walking like all the old people used to do in the Midvale Mall in the hours before the stores opened, she glanced up to see the woman looking over at her. She grinned at Alex, and Alex broke her no smiling rule because she couldn’t just  _ not _ smile back at her. 

When the physical therapist left the woman with a small purple ball, she wandered over to Alex. “What’re you in for?”

“Murder of an overly enthusiastic physical therapist,” Alex deadpanned. “What about you?”

“Oof, that long in here? I’ve got more of an armed robbery kind of deal.” 

“Didn’t take you for a thief.”

“Oh yeah, I’m a veritable Robin Hood.”

Alex hummed, trying to be subtle as she wiped away the sweat beading along her temples.

“I’m Maggie, by the way. And I’m really in here because I broke several bones in my hand and wrist.” She held up her right arm and squeezed the little purple ball. 

“Alex. Post-surgery for a torn meniscus.”

Maggie sucked in air through her teeth, wincing in sympathy. “How many weeks out are you?”

“Four.”

“Wow. Seems like you’re progressing pretty well, at least.”

Alex shrugged. It felt impossibly slow-going. “What about you?”

“Got my cast off last week. Now I’m working on rebuilding muscle and getting back flexibility and fine motor control.”

“At least it seems to still work alright.”

Maggie’s features darkened. “Not well enough for my line of work.”

“Oh. Sorry. What do you do? If I can ask.”

“Detective. Busted right hand tends to mess with your ability to hold a gun.” She swallowed heavily and forced levity into her tone as she added, “Plus, it really puts a damper on the love life with the ladies.” With an exaggerated wink, she wiggled her fingers, laughing loudly at Alex’s answering blush. “Sorry, I tried making that joke with Kathleen, but it turns out she’s tragically heterosexual. I, uh, I thought you might get it.”

“I do,” Alex rushed to clarify. There was no good way to explain that she might have laughed if the fingers hadn’t led Alex back to thoughts about Maggie’s forearm exercises and her nice arms and all the other ways she could think of for Maggie to practice regaining hand strength, maybe with her instead of Kathleen.

“You okay, Alex?”

“Fine! Yeah, um, super good. Great.” She shook her head, trying to clear it of any inappropriate thoughts. “I hate being here.”

“Really? Don’t like Holly?”

“I mean, she’s fine I guess. Sort of reminds me of a much more annoying version of my sister. But it’s more that every day I’m here I’m reminded of all the reasons why I’m not at work.”

“What do you do?”

“Federal agent.”

“You mean to tell me I’m over here flirting with a fed?”

Alex stumbled on the treadmill, and it was only Maggie’s good arm that saved her from a humiliating fall. “You’re, uh, flirting with me?”

“Clearly not well. And sorry. Maybe I was misreading things. I just—the other day it seemed like maybe you were checking me out, then you smiled at me a few times. But you can ignore me. Sorry, I’ll leave you alone.”

“No! No, that’s not it. It’s just, I’m not really feeling at my best. I can’t do half the shit that used to be really easy, and I’m sweating from a fast walk on a moderate incline. I didn’t really think I’d be the kind of person to catch your eye.”

“It was all the scowling at Holly that really sold me on you.” 

Alex’s pursed her lips. “She’s too peppy.”

“Well…maybe we could be workout buddies here? You can whine as much as you want, so long as you’ll let me vent about not being able to use a punching bag and being stuck on desk duty for another month or two.” 

“One condition.”

“Name it.”

“Go on a date with me where we don’t do any venting. Just the two of us, having drinks, getting to know each other.”

Maggie’s smile was broad, and Alex noticed two dimples that she hadn’t seen before. “You’ve got a deal.” 

\---

Over the coming weeks, they alternated between hanging out at physical therapy and bitching about the ways their bodies seemed to be betraying them—the little hand tremors that kept Maggie from being able to go back out on active duty; the morning stiffness that made Alex hobble through breakfast until she could warm up the muscles—and going out to drinks and dinners and movies—Maggie always offering an arm when they stood without acting like it was for any reason other than chivalry; Alex never looking when Maggie’s chopsticks or forks slipped out of her right hand, clattering to the table. 

To make up for all the negative feelings that physical therapy could bring up, they started to make out in the parking lot of the physical therapy building after their sessions, fogging up the DEO-owned SUV five days in a row before admitting that maybe 10am on weekdays was asking for an embarrassing run in with the parking attendant. After that they drove to Maggie’s building, which was only a few blocks away, and made out on Maggie’s couch until half an hour had elapsed and they both had to leave for the jobs who thought physical therapy ran a bit later than it actually did.

After a couple of weeks, the physical therapist told Alex that she’d gotten back to full range of motion. They celebrated with champagne and a walk along the pier and a night where Maggie showed Alex all the things she could still do with her hand—and several things that didn’t require her hand at all.

After six weeks of being out of the cast, Maggie passed her physical exam to be cleared for active duty again. Alex surprised her at the precinct, waiting in the parking lot with a small bouquet of flowers—nothing ostentatious—and a bar of the fancy salted dark chocolate she mentioned really liking a few weeks back. They went out to dinner, then came back to Alex’s apartment to celebrate without all those pesky layers of clothing between them. With her knee properly supported by a pillow—and really, Holly would be so proud if she knew—Alex pulled Maggie up to straddle her face, making her come again and again until the neighbor pounded on the shared wall to keep it the fuck down.

A week later, Alex was cleared to start running again. Maggie offered to come over on the mornings she didn’t already wake up in Alex’s bed to go for short runs as Alex built up her endurance again. When Alex cried in frustration after pushing herself too hard and waking up the following morning in nearly debilitating pain, Maggie didn’t point out that she’d told Alex they should probably take it easier; she just brought Alex a box of tissues and a bagel, toasted only one time—“Whatever, weirdo, some of us appreciate a good crunch.”—and curled around her in bed, insisting that she could take a day off of work to make sure her girlfriend was okay. 

After 16 weeks of post-surgery recovery, Alex passed the fitness exam at the DEO. Even though J’onn insisted that she do another few weeks of intensive training with him before she went back out into the field on missions, it was no longer an  _ if _ but a  _ when _ . 

Almost 20 weeks after surgery to the day, Alex went back out into the field—a low-level mission to capture an already injured K’hund. When a team member called out that he spotted movement in the back corner of the warehouse where he was suspected to be hunkering down, Alex took point, gun held at the ready, cautious but sure of herself, her body trustworthy once more. 

“Come out and drop your weapon,” Alex yelled, spying a hint of movement behind a large packing crate.

A small figured stood, arms in the air, head tilted to one side. “Danvers?”

“Maggie?”

“FBI, huh?”

Alex waved her backup away, explaining that their intruder was NCPD but she’d deal with it. “You can’t be here.”

“Uh, I think I can. This warehouse falls under the NCPD Science Division’s jurisdiction. But let me guess, not only are you DEO, but you’re also gonna try to claim this as your case?”

Alex groaned, rubbing at her forehead. “You have so much paperwork to fill out.” 

“Of course I do.”

“I’ll talk to you about it later tonight, okay?”

“Sure.” But Maggie made no moves to leave. 

“Maggie.”

“Yeah?”

“We got this.”

“Maybe, but it’s still my case.” 

“Except it’s my case.”

A loud crash sounded from the opposite side of the warehouse.

“Okay, look, PT was better when we worked together, yeah?” Maggie asked, already grabbing her gun off the ground. 

“I guess.”

“So…partners?”

Alex barely hesitated before hoisting her own weapon back up. “You better be as good here as you are everywhere else we’re partners.”

Maggie winked. “I’m even better.” 

And then they were off.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on Twitter and Tumblr @sapphicscholar
> 
> There will be some fics that don't make it over to AO3 if they're really short or if it's the only fic I had about a given pairing - so there's a Superlane and a Cat Grant/Olivia Marsdin over there, for instance, that probably won't migrate here if you want to read them!


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